Your Potted Rose’s First Bloom of the Season Is Over. Now What?

Last week, I wanted to write a post about roses. But, finding myself defeated by work and life, something on my to-do list had to go.

To be honest, roses are pretty intimidating and not the best topic to tackle if you’re already feeling overwhelmed. Experts devote their lives to becoming certified rosarians. An ancient flower laden with symbolism, the rose has a lasting grip on our romantic imaginations.

I wanted to focus on caring for roses in pots, but that presented another problem: my rose in a pot was not doing that well. After a hard prune in winter, a flush of new growth in early spring, and lots of buds and blooms in late April, I deadheaded the spent flowers to find myself with a rather sad, weak-looking little plant. 

Even the flowers I’d had were a bit underwhelming, drooping on thin stems, small and pale.

Who was I to be giving advice on growing roses in containers?

Rosa Duchesse de Brabant

Although it’s one of my favorite places in the world, a walk through my neighborhood rose garden only exacerbated my woes. On this visit, for the first time and totally by chance, I stumbled upon my rose: “Duchesse de Brabant.”

Let me tell you a bit about her. She is what they call an “old garden rose.” She’s a classic. She’s no Hybrid Tea, she’s an Original Tea. She looks and smells like the rose you imagine when you use rose-scented soap or perfume: a round cup of soft pink petals with a delicate fragrance. I’m very attached.

When I first saw the tag confirming her identity, I was excited. But admiring her tall stature and abundant blooms, I felt sad for the little Duchesse on my balcony. 

I thought I had done everything right. I re-potted her last winter into a roomier container with rich compost. I followed pruning advice from the rosarian who oversees the rose garden (I volunteer there from time to time). Her vigorous early spring growth was so promising.

So why were her flowers dull and droopy, compared to her magnificent counterpart in the rose garden? Even more worrisome was her diminished appearance after deadheading. She had lost the vigor of early spring, and I feared she would never bounce back.

Reasons that aren’t my fault

I wondered if she might just be hungry. I fed her with some liquid fish fertilizer to support foliage, worked some rose and flower food into the soil, and hoped for the best.

In the meantime, I reached out to my friend Megan, who grows glorious roses in containers on her patio in San Diego, to find out her secrets to success. I was heartened to hear that she, too, was awaiting buds after deadheading the initial super bloom. She texted, “it might be a tad premature for me to offer up any tips. I really want many more blooms.”

It turns out that roses bloom in cycles. It’s normal for them to flower profusely all at once, and then take a few weeks to regenerate a new round of buds. The length of the period in between varies depending on the type of rose.

It’s not so much that I had made some grave mistake. I was just being impatient and not respecting my rose’s natural rhythms.

Reasons that are my fault

That said, internet research turned up a few ideas for how I could remedy the issues facing my Duchesse.

First, as a shrub rose, container life might not be for her. I originally planted her in the ground but transferred her to a pot when we moved. If the tactics below don’t work this year, I’ll contemplate finding her a new home with yard-owning neighbors. 

Her weak stems and small flowers may be due to lack of sunlight. Roses need at least six hours of direct sun every day. My balcony has a fundamental design problem; although it faces south, the thick balustrade and overhanging ceiling cast a lot of shade on the floor. 

Over the course of the year, the light patterns change constantly, so her spot that was sunny in March is now shaded for too much of the day. With space at a premium, it’ll be tricky to find her a sunnier home, but I’ll try.

Though I believe I am watering her enough, I probably need to fertilize more regularly, not just at the start of the season. Megan feeds her roses monthly, and although her plants are between bloom cycles too, they have much bushier foliage and stronger canes than mine.

An optimistic note

Although other sources confirmed it was the right course, the Duchesse herself let me know that she appreciated her meal. Within a matter of days, I spotted new growth at the tips of the stems I had snipped.

As her new, red leaves unfurled and the chaos in my life began to subside, I felt less discouraged.  I might not be an expert in growing roses, but I am good at problem-solving, and I can even be patient if that’s the best solution.

There are tons of resources out there for growing roses in containers that are much more reliable than me (here’s one). But remember, I’m here for moral support too. If you’re feeling downtrodden after your rose’s first bloom has ended, know that you’re not alone. Just wait a while. She’ll be back.